Dragon Kings, The Tale of Aerys I Targaryen and his descendants
by VVSINGOFTHECROSS
Summary: Aerys I Targaryen and his descendants have many difficulties to face, Blackfyres in the east and rebel lords at home. How will they cope?
1. Chapter 1

_House Targaryen, of the blood of old Valyria, dragon riders and conquerors came to the island now known as Dragonstone some three hundred years before the conquest when Daenys the dreamer dreamed of the Doom. When the doom came, the line of House Targaryen survived, whilst all the other dragonlords died, and the free cities and the slaver cities and the Dothraki emerged out of the ashes of the once great empire._

_This story however, is not about the Doom of Valyria, nor is it about Aegon's Conquest. No this story is about the years that followed the first Blackfyre Rebellion, the Tourney of Ashford and the Great Spring Sickness. Now as most of Westeros knows the seeds of the Blackfyre rebellion were planted in the 184__th__ Year after Aegon's Landing, when King Aegon the Fourth of his name, otherwise known as Aegon the Unworthy legitimized all of his baseborn children and placed them in the line of succession after his trueborn son and heir Daeron the good. Now two years before his death, Aegon had knighted his bastard son Daemon waters, and upon his death bed bequeathed the Targaryen ancestral sword Blackfyre to Daemon. This started several rumours that it was Daemon whom Aegon wished to succeed him, not his bookish son Daeron, whom rumour had it was believed to be the product of an illicit affair between the King's brother Aemon the Dragonknight and the king's sister and Queen Naerys. Now by the time Aegon died, both his brother and his sister had preceded him to the grave, and so neither of them could answer these rumours, this did not however, stop several ambitious nobles such as Robb Reyne and Lord Damon Strickland insinuating themselves with Daemon from the day of his father's death._

_The rumours kept being fuelled as the years of Daeron the good's reign progressed and more and more nobles became disillusioned with the bookish and Dornish flavour of the King's court. Daemon had taken the name Blackfyre, and had started a new house, and was seen by many to be the warrior come to life. He excelled at all martial skills, and he was charming and had many of the characteristics that the more martially inclined nobles of the court believed that a king should have. He was also very charismatic something that his half brother Daeron the Good was not, at least not openly. This coupled with Daemon's increasing resentment of his bastard status- despite being legitimised- increased the tension between the two brothers, and it is said finally escalated when Daeron the Good decided to marry their sister Danaerys to Maron Martell the Prince of Dorne, as per the agreement struck by King Baelor the Blessed all those years ago. _

_It is widely claimed that Daemon Blackfyre loved Danaerys, and was loved by her in turn. That is what the singers and the maidens whose heads are filled with songs and the happiness of youth and childhood claim. The reality may be much darker and much less romantic, for by the time Danaerys was betrothed to Maron Martell Daemon had already married and fathered seven sons and three daughters, so it may have just been a case of Bittersteel's whisperings finally getting to Daemon, but the man raised his banners- a black three headed dragon on a field of red- and marched to war._

_The first Blackfyre rebellion lasted for one full year between 195 and 196 A.L. There were several small skirmishes between loyalist and rebel forces, at Lannisport, on the banks of the Mander in the Reach and in the Riverlands. Victories were won for either side, but the deciding battle was the Battle of Redgrass Field. Both armies met and a fierce fight was fought, Daemon smashed Lord Arryn's van killing Lord Arryn and the hand of the King Lord Hayford. And engaged in a legendary duel with Ser Gwayne Corbray, whom eventually died from his wounds, but as Daemon allowed Ser Gwayne to be sent away and tended to his half brother Brynden Rivers, who had stayed loyal to Daeron throughout the war gathered his Raven's Teeth and reigned arrows down upon Daemon and his twin sons Aegon and Aemon, killing all three._

_The rebel army looked likely to flee, but they were rallied by Bittersteel whom fought a fierce duel with Brynden and took out one of his eyes. The rebel army fought back fiercely and may have broken through the loyalist force, had it not been for Prince Maekar and Prince Baelor's hammer and anvil tactic. The rebel army broke it on the loyalist shields and spears, and Bittersteel sensing defeat fled with some thirty loyal rebels, and fled across the narrow sea with Daemon's remaining sons and daughters._

_With the Blackfyre rebellion ended, peace was brought back to the Seven Kingdoms. King Daeron named his eldest son and heir Prince Baelor as his hand, and the Prince along with his father brought stability back to the realm. Princess Danaerys married Prince Maron, thus sealing the alliance of Dorne and bringing it in to the realm, making Aegon the Conqueror's dream of uniting all Seven Kingdoms a reality. Misfortune thought would strike the royal family soon enough though. _

_A mishap during the Trial of Seven during the Tourney of Ashford led to the death of Prince Baelor from a head wound he received from his brother Prince Maekar. Then the Great Spring Sickness of 209 A.L. came and claimed the lives of tens of thousands of people in the Seven Kingdoms. The major cities affected the most; it was bad in Lannisport, worse in Oldtown, but worst of all in King's Landing, where four in ten succumbed to it. A strong man could wake up healthy in the morning and die by the evening, so swiftly did the plague strike. Dorne and the Vale of Arryn did not suffer from the Great Spring Sickness, as they closed off their access roads and their ports to all travellers. The sickness also claimed the lives of King Daeron the Good, his last hand of the King and his immediate heirs Prince Valarr and Prince Matarys. _

_As a result of this King Daeron's second son, Prince Aerys Targaryen ascended the throne in the seventh month of the 209__th__ Year after Aegon's Landing, and was crowned King Aerys Targaryen, the first of his name, King of Westeros, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. Aerys had developed a reputation for being a bookish and shy man, and named his uncle Brynden Rivers as Hand of the King, and left it for Brynden to deal with the aftermath of the Great Spring Sickness as well as to deal with the raiding Ironborn. Meanwhile Aerys spent his time reading books and prophecy._

_It was often said that Aerys would rather take his books to bed than his wife, Aelinor Targaryen had married Aerys- her brother- as in the Targaryen tradition of marrying brother to sister. Aerys and Aelinor married in 186 A.L. and remained childless until fourteen years into their marriage when Aelinor gave birth to a girl whom they named Daenys, after Daenys the Dreamer. Another daughter Myriah followed two years later, and then two years after that a son was born to them, the boy was named Aenar, and was a strong and healthy child, but he too succumbed to the Great Spring Sickness and died at the young age of five, leaving Aelinor heart broken. _

_Two years into Aerys' reign, Aelinor gave birth to another son, whom they named Brynden after their uncle Brynden 'Bloodraven' Rivers. Brynden was born in 211 A.L. and was a small babe, but he would be remembered in later years as having brought the joy and life back to his mother, Queen Aelinor loved all her children fiercely, but after Aenar's death some part of her died as well, but Brynden's birth brought something back to her and so Brynden grew up cherished and loved by the women in his life, his mother and his two sisters. Aerys had very little to actually do with his son at all. And Brynden would learn most of what it was to be king from his uncle Prince Maekar and his great uncle Brynden Rivers._

_Across the narrow sea, the remenants of House Blackfyre sat and plotted their return to Westeros. Bittersteel a harsh man with a cold temperament made use of the friends Daemon had made in Westeros particularly the Lothstons of Harrenhal to gather information about the Seven Kingdoms. This information was put into use during the Whitewalls Tourney, held in the first year of Aerys I's reign. Many of the nobles who attended were dissatisfied with the bookish nature of the king and wished to put a more martially inclined King on the throne. Bittersteel sent Daemon II Blackfyre to the Tourney to rally support, but the attempt failed and Daemon was captured and later imprisoned in the black cells of the Red Keep so that Bittersteel could not crown his younger brother Haegon king. The lords who met at the tourney accept for Lord Frey were all punished and had their lands or titles taken from them. However, the Blackfyre threat was not over just yet, Bittersteel fought off ill health and disease and kept a close eye on events in Westeros and in Essos and when Aerion Targaryen was exiled and sent to Lys, he sent one of Daemon's daughters to the Brightflame prince in disguise and had her seduce him and take him to bed, planting the seeds of Targaryen and Blackfyre, for a fall back should the trueborn sons of Daemon Blakcfyre not succeed._

_This story begins in the year 211 A.L. Brynden Targaryen the eldest surviving son of King Aerys and Queen Aelinor has just been born, and the Greyjoy raiders are about to be dealt with. _


	2. The Hand With A Thousand Eyes And One

**Bloodraven**

He was hand of the king, the most powerful man in the seven kingdoms, he spoke with the king's voice and yet he could not even convince a woman to marry him. This was the third time he had proposed to Shiera, and the third time she had rejected him. It was becoming like a game between them. They would make love and then come the morn would disperse to their own duties, Shiera was one of Queen Aelinor's ladies in waiting and Brynden was hand of the King, and yet there were times when he wondered why she never accepted his proposals, it could not be because of Aegor, the man was far away in Tyrosh never to ask for her hand ever again, and besides Shiera herself had admitted to him that she saw Aegor more as a brother than a lover. No she claimed to love Brynden and only him and yet he was not sure, perhaps they were not meant to be, but that was not something he could dwell on just now as he walked toward the Small Council chamber, Ser Roland Crakehall walked behind him, his boots clanging on the wooden floor. Briefly he wondered if the king would take the time from his reading to attend the meeting today.

It was the second year of Aerys' reign, and the troubles were mounting. The Great Spring Sickness that had claimed the lives of Daeron and Valarr and Matarys had left in its wake a great drought, the like of which had never before been seen in Westeros. With the drought had come the drying of rivers and wells, and a mass exodus of the smallfolk from their lands as they sought refuge elsewhere, most had come to King's Landing, thinking the King could provide for them. That was not the case, King's Landing itself was deeply struggling to maintain any sense of order within the streets, there was hunger and famine in the streets, that there was no disease was simply the luck of the gods. He had ordered the stragglers away and had ordered the gates closed and yet more people still came, it would only get worse before it got better, that was a saying his mother always used to say.

Ser Willam Wylde stood in his Kingsguard armour his white cloak draped on his shoulders billowing to the floor. Ser Wylde nodded as he saw Brynden and his sworn brother approach the small council chamber and stood to the side and allowed the hand to enter. The door closed behind him, and he surveyed the chamber. Not much of it had changed since Aerys had been king, there were books and papers still strewn on the table as they had been when Daeron had been king, the only change was that the chair where the King often sat, moulded into a throne with a dragon head, was no longer present. Aerys had ordered the chair moved to his room when he had become King, Brynden sat in a chair of oak embodied with a hand on its top, as he sat he looked through the papers that were to be discussed in the day's council meeting. As he began shifting through the papers, the door opened and in walked Grand Maester Manderly, followed closely by the Master of Ships Lord Alor Velaryon, on his coat tails came Master of Coin the heir to Casterly Rock Tybolt Lannister, and then Master of Whispers Odrick Royce and then lastly closing the doors behind him Lord Commander of Aerys Kingsguard, Ser Donnel of Duskendale. Master of Laws Prince Maekar was away gathering the royal levies to march on the Ironborn.

Brynden waited for them all to be seated before he began the session. "My lords thank you for coming. As you know we have several key issues to talk of. Lord Odrick if you could begin."

Odrick Royce was no lord in truth, a second son of a second son he had served as part of Brynden's Raven's Teeth during the Blackfyre rebellion and of course had been a part of the hand's spy network for many years before that, with a penchant for collecting secrets from those whose loyalty was still in doubt. Odrick cleared his throat. "Thank you my lord hand," he began in his iron baritone. "Word from the city reports that there are more and more deaths each day due to hunger and the famine. The smallfolk grumble and complain." He paused for a moment, then continued. "They complain of ill omens and such, claiming that the people are paying for the mistakes of the King and the Royal Family. "

Beside him, Lord Tybolt snorted, Lannisters did have a habit of thinking themselves above everyone even the blood royal. Brynden spoke. "Burn the bodies in the dragon pit. Have your men in the streets suss out who is talking treason and have them brought before me before the next court session."

Odrick nodded. "Anything more?"

"Yes my lord hand. My sources in the reach report that Lord Tyrell has begun mobilising men near the Mander to deal with the Ironborn he claims, but Prince Maron has sent word that there were incursions into his land and that they bore the rose of Highgarden."

Brynden cursed silently. It was just his luck, the Ironborn were raiding the west and the north, and Blackfyres were mobilising in the east and Lord Leo saw fit to renew age old hatred with Dorne. "Grand Maester, write to Lord Tyrell and tell him to state his intentions truly. If these men he is mobilising are truly to deal with the Ironborn then we shall let it be. However, if they are not then he is to disband them immediately, and under no circumstances are these men to enter Dorne unless the Blackfyres march on us."

Manderly nodded his head, the man was dutiful and had been serving as Grand Maester for as long as Brynden had been in the Red Keep, he was ageing it was true but he was loyal and stuck to his vows. More than could be said of the man the Citadel were thinking of sending once Manderly's day came.

Brynden turned his attention toward Lord Velaryon. "Will our ships be ready in time to mount an assault on Pyke should the need arise?"

"They will my lord. They await the King's command." Lord Velaryon stated.

"Good." He turned now to face Lord Tybolt. Lannister bore all the signature features of his family, the golden hair and green eyes, as well as the cocksureness and arrogance of wealth. "How much coin do we have and how much will a full war with the Ironborn cost?"

Lord Tybolt looked down quickly at his notes and swallowed once before replying. "The royal treasury has enough my lord hand. A war with the Ironborn may cost between 2 to three hundred dragons, should it come to it."

"Well let us hope that Prince Maekar can deal with Dagon Greyjoy effectively." The hand replied. He hoped, no, he prayed to both the old gods and the new that Maekar could deal with Dagon Greyjoy before the man took it in to his head and crowned himself King of the Iron Islands. So far the man had simply been content raiding the west, the north and the arbor, but should he learn the true extent of the weakness and uncertainty surrounding Aerys' reign there was every possibility that he would try and secede, and that was something Brynden could not allow to happen.

Once that conversation was done, the other less important topics were brought up for discussion. Things such as taxes and whether or not in light of the drought and the famine that was slowly beginning to spread across Westeros, taxes should be lowered. Brynden allowed the lords to argue back and forth. Lannister was of course in favour of keeping taxes as they were at present, the more money he was able to bring in the more closely aligned he back with the crown, and the more loyal Casterly Rock became to Aerys' reign. Lord Velaryon argued for raising them, his lands had not been affected by the drought, be it as they were in the Blackwater, but his daughters had been attacked in the street by beggars in King's Landing and he wished to punish the small folk for their crimes, he also wanted tougher laws and justice in place. Grand Maester Manderly was in favour of keeping them the same level, for no other reason than he believed it would serve no purpose to raise them unless they wished to drive the lords into the Blackfyres' hands should Daemon die and Haegon be crowned. Lord Commander Ser Donnel remained silent throughout the discussion, and Brynden knew why, Ser Donnel came from the old school of Kingsguard, one in which the white cloaks listened and listened and only voiced an opinion when related to the royal family or those closely connected, not otherwise.

Once it was decided that taxes would remain the same, talk then turned to dealing with the beggars and brigands on the roads, it was decided that the number of gold cloaks would have to increase and that orders should be sent to each lord and noble in the kingdom to keep a strict protection over their lands who walked on them. Those men convicted of crimes such as stealing, and other offences were to be sent to the Night's Watch.

Once that was done, the meeting was adjourned for another day, but as he watched the other members walk out Brynden asked Lord Tybolt to stay behind. He could tell that the man was nervous, many of the nobles of court were nervous around him, it had always been that way ever since he had been a child. The only ones who did not truly seem to mind him were Daeron, Shiera and Aelinor, Daeron was dead though so it was only women who trusted him, and that never looked good, especially in the eyes of a warrior like Ser Tybolt. Brynden saw the way the man looked more like a nervous cub than the proud lion he often portrayed himself as and decided to put the man at ease. "Ser Tybolt, I trust you spoke to your father about my offer?"

Tybolt swallowed nervously and replied, "Aye I did my lord."

"And what did he say?" Brynden asked patiently.

Tybolt swallowed again. "He agreed to the match my lord."

Brynden gave the man one of his rare smiles. "Good, so it is settled then. Princess Daenys will marry your son Lucion when she flowers."

Tybolt nodded, though he did not seem to happy with the notion. Brynden dismissed the man, and then sat alone for a few more moments in the small council chamber thinking merely thinking. He had been in the small council for nearly a quarter of a century now, he had served as Daeron's master of whispers before and during and after the Blackfyre rebellion. He had sat in the chair where Odrick now sat, Lord Hayford had sat where he now sat, and Baelor sat where Maekar usually sat. It seemed funny to him, the older he got, the more he thought of the past, he could now understand why Daeron had spent so much time engrossed in his books as his reign had come to an end, his brother had been trying to forget the hurtful memories of the past. Brynden could understand that, there was not a night that went by that he didn't wake up sweating and breathing heavily for having dreamt of that day on the Redgrass field where his arrows had killed Daemon and his sons Aegon and Aemon, he knew it was the right thing to have done, otherwise Daemon may have broken through to King's Landing before Baelor could have got there, but it still pained him and haunted him seeing Daemon's lifeless body with an arrow- his arrow- jutting through his throat.

Brynden sighed once more, got up out of the chair, and opened the door and walked out. Ser Ronald and Ser Willam followed him, Ser Willam left them as they passed by Maegor's holdfast, no doubt going to exchange duties with whomever it was who had the misfortune to be guarding Aerys now. Brynden bid Ser Ronald to wait outside as he walked down toward the black cells where Daemon's son was kept. The man was a traitor and an usurper, and yet Brynden found himself oddly fascinated by the boy, for that was what he was no matter what he claimed. The boy was more a singer than a warrior that much was certain, he looked like Daemon though- which was fitting considering he had been named after him- he was lean and lithe with shoulder length silver hair, and a silver beard that was scraggly from his time in chains. His hair was a mess too, something that made Brynden want to laugh, the first Daemon would have been horrified if his hair had been in the state that his son and namesake's was.

He stopped before the cell, and waited for the boy to look up. When he did, Brynden heard the chains begin to clank and screech. "Come to question me more?" the boy's voice was hoarse from disuse. "Well you're wasting your time. I have no more to give you, and no answers."

Brynden remained silent, in his experience the longer the silence stretched on the more people wished to fill it, and he knew this Daemon Blackfyre liked the sound of his own voice, just as much as his father had.

True enough, the boy soon spoke, and he sounded angry. "Bittersteel won't try and break me out if that is what you're worried about. He never did much like me. It was always Aegon and Aemon he liked, and then when they died, it was Haegon he shifted his focus to. I was only sent here so that I could drum up support for Haegon, no more , no less."

Brynden said nothing, but walked away and out of the black cells and back into the Red Keep. He would need to contact his spies in Tyrosh, Haegon would need to be dealt with before he became a serious threat. He was walking along back to the Tower of the Hand, Ser Roland following behind him, when Grand Maester Manderly came panting up to him, a raven scroll clutched in his hand.

Breathing heavily Manderly spoke. "My Lord Hand, a raven from Fair Isle. From Prince Maekar."

Brynden took the outstretched letter and read it eagerly, and gave a little laugh of joy. Maekar had managed to defeat Dagon Greyjoy in single combat. His army had been smashed by the combined Lannister- Stark- Crownland army, and Dagon's son Quinton had been slain as well. The Ironborn had surrendered. One problem was dealt with for now.


	3. The Hammer

**Maekar**

War was a tiring business. That was something Prince Maekar of House Targaryen had learnt after the Blackfyre rebellion. It was not the glorious thing that the songs made it out to be. In fact it was not a song, just as life was not. The echoes of dying soldiers crying out for their mothers, for their fathers, for family they would never ever see again had been a constant reminder of how grim war truly was to Maekar in the aftermath of the Blackfyre Rebellion. Maekar had seen his friends die right before his eyes; he'd killed people with his mace who had once grown up with him in King's Landing, in Summerhall and on visits to his mother's homeland in Dorne. That war had haunted his dreams, and his waking moments for years afterwards, many a time he'd had to have been woken by Lyra, sweating and raving from some nightmarish hell. After the Blackfyre rebellion, Maekar had developed a deep hatred of all things to do with Daemon Blackfyre, including that little spec of a man who was rotting in the dungeons.

The fighting with the Greyjoy raiders could not be counted as a war as such, it was more of a skirmish. Dagon Greyjoy had thought to take advantage of their preoccupation with Tyrosh and Bittersteel, and had gone raiding along the coast of the Westerlands and along the northern coast. When news had reached Summerhall, Maekar had been worried, his son Aegon and that knight who he squired for were somewhere in the north, and were more than likely at risk of falling prey to Ironborn madness. Maekar had pushed and pushed for full action by the Iron Throne, but as had so often happened since Baelor had died- been killed, a traitorous little voice in his head whispered- he was overruled, Aerys choosing to listen to Bloodraven instead of his own brother, and deciding that the threat from the East was greater than the one being presented by the Ironborn. Maekar had been furious when his brother had made that statement, it confirmed some of his worst fears, his brother was falling under Bloodraven's influence more and more and was losing the sense of sanity and stability that he so often had possessed before he had become king.

Eventually when news came of the Ironborn raids of Fair Isle, Stony Shore and the taking of Deepwood Motte, Maekar had decided enough was enough, and had kept pestering Aerys until his brother had eventually relented and had agreed to send some men to the north to help deal with the Ironborn. Maekar had taken command of the forces and had led them to Seagard where the combined forces of the north, the Westerlands and the Crownlands had fought the Ironborn. The Ironborn once again proved why they were only raiders at their core and not truly warriors. They were vastly disorganised and crumbled at the first sign of defeat, that being Maekar killing Dagon Greyjoy himself in single combat. Greyjoy's heir was also slain by Maekar, the Ironborn either tried to flee and were put to the sword, or surrendered and were welcomed back into the King's peace, but hostages were taken.

Greyjoy's second in command Ryman Harlaw gave his son and heir twelve year old Matthew Harlaw as a ward- a hostage really- to Lord Damon Lannister, and Beron Stark took Lord Dagon's daughter Yara as his ward, they would be kept for a period of seven years to ensure the loyalty of the Iron Islands, should they rebel once more the hostages lives would be forfeit, Maekar made sure that the Ironborn understood that. With that done, he prepared to return back to Summerhall to Lyra and their children, but before he could go back home he spoke with Aegon and Ser Duncan, he gathered that Aegon was coming along nicely as a squire and he had certainly proved himself in the battle that had been fought at Seagard, though Maekar had been slightly shocked that Ser Duncan had allowed his son to fight in the battle, but said nothing of it. Aegon had told him that they planned on remaining in the North for a little while longer and then would more than likely head to the Westerlands or the Vale. Maekar bid his son farewell but also made him swear to be careful, and then returned home.

That had been nigh on ten years ago now, the Ironborn had stayed true their promise and had raised no more trouble. Aegon had been knighted by Ser Duncan in a tournament held in King's Landing to celebrate Prince Brynden's fifth nameday, and he had subsequently married his sister Rhae, a marriage of love, but one that Maekar still had reservations about, he knew what it was to marry someone who was kin, and he knew the pain that one could feel from their death. His own Lyra had been a cousin, his uncle Mors's daughter, they had grown up together and had grown to love one another, in a more than familiar way, and so when his father had proposed the match, neither of them had objected to it. Though with her death, it felt like there was a chasm in his heart and his life that nothing- not even Aelinor- would be able to fill, and so he drifted from one day to the next, like a mindless ghost, just drifting.

Atleast that was how he had been, for recently Aerys had taken very ill and had died from what the Grand Maester called the sweating sickness. Aerys had become very, very frail during those final months, and had begun speaking in strange tongues and spurting prophecies left, right and centre. And then he had passed away in his sleep, an ending that perhaps was for the best, had it not been for the pure pain that seemed to be constantly etched across his face as he slept during that final night. Maekar knew that Aelinor and his own children had done their best to prevent Prince- no King- Brynden from seeing his father in the state that he had been in, but there was only so much that they could do. Aerys had died two moons ago, and Prince Brynden, Aerys and Aelinor's son had become, King Brynden Targaryen first of his name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.

And two days after his coronation a raven had come from Essos, from one of Bloodraven's many spies reporting that the Blackfyres were preparing for another assault. War would be coming to Westeros once more, the red dragon and the black dragon would be fighting once more.


	4. The Boy King

**King Brynden Targaryen**

Brynden Targaryen was bored, here he was all of ten years old King of the Seven Kingdoms and it was a nice and sunny day outside but he was stuck inside having to have lessons about his kingdom with Grand Maester Derryck. It wasn't that he did not like having lessons; it was just that Grand Maester Derryck was such an old and boring man, who more often than not fell asleep whilst they were having lessons, that Brynden never truly learnt all that he was supposed to during his lessons. Of course he had not told his mother, or uncle Maekar or uncle Brynden, as if he told them about it, they would more than likely find some other more monotonus maester to teach him, and besides he did sort of enjoy learning from Maester Derryck after a fashion.

Today they were learning about the Dance of Dragons, of how Princess Rhaenrya had fought for her right to the Iron Throne, which she had claimed was hers by right and the will of her and her half brother Aegon's father King Viserys I. Grand Maester Derryck was droning on. "And when King Viserys was declared dead, Queen Alicent had his rooms sealed off and had the man who had brought the news of the King's death to her put under arrest so that he could not spread news of the king's death. Much later a meeting of the small council was convened and the members led by the Queen's father Ser Otto Hightower argued for Alicent's eldest son with Viserys Aegon to become king, by rule of Andal custom. Lord Beesbury the old and ancient maester of coin argued stringently in favour of following King Viserys' will and crowning Rhaenrya though he had little support. Once the small council had unanimously agreed to declare Aegon as king, Ser Criston Cole was sent by Queen Alicent to the royal apartments to rouse Aegon and his wife. The next day in front of half the court of King's Landing; Aegon was crowned king by Ser Cristan Cole, and became Aegon the second of his name. When news reached Princess Rhaenrya and her family on Dragonstone, it is said she flew into a fierce rage and declared herself the rightful queen, and sent her sons to Storm's End, the Vale and the North to garner their support. The Dance of Dragons had begun."

Brynden was trying his hardest not to yawn as the maester spoke, he found the Dance of Dragons very interesting. Not so much the details of how it began, but more because of the fighting that had taken place, when his family had still had dragons. He wanted to know more about that and the dragons and yet Maester Derryck seemed reluctant to go into much depth about the Dragons or how they had lived and died. Brynden rubbed his eyes tiredly and tried to focus in more as Maester Derryck went on. "At first many of the great lords were unsure of whom to support. Did they choose to support Prince Aegon, whom by Andal custom as King Viserys first born son, was his rightful heir. Or did they support Rhaenrya who technically as King Viserys firstborn child and appointed heir, technically did have more of a claim to the Iron Throne. There was limited understanding of how to handle the matter, given that King Viserys himself had come to the throne as the eldest surviving grandchild of King Jaehaerys the wise. Eventually the lines of battle were drawn. The North led by Lord Donnel Stark declared for Princess Rhaenrya, the Vale too declared for Princess Rhaenrya by virtue of her being the niece of the then reigning lord of the Vale. Storm's End declared for Prince Aegon, after Princess Rhaenrya's son Jacaerys was slain by Prince Aegon's brother Prince Aemond. The Tyrells and some of their bannermen remained neutral throughout the conflict. The Hightowers and some of their peers in the Reach of course declared for Prince Aegon, and the Westerlands were split, with Ser Tyland Lannister leading half their forces to fight for Prince Aegon, and Lord Caspian Reyne leading half the forces to fight for Princess Rhaenrya."

Brynden's interest had just been captured by the mentioning of the Lannisters, when his mother Queen Regent Aelinor walked into the room followed by Ser Roland Crakehall. He smiled at his mother and was happy to see his mother smile back at him, his mother had been very busy and had not had much time to spend with him as of late, what with both of Brynden's sisters Daenys and Myriah getting married soon, and so he was very happy to see her. "Maester Derryck, I hope you can excuse the interruption. But his grace is needed now."

Maester Derryck bowed his head and replied. "Of course your grace," turning to look at Brynden he said "Until next time my king."

Brynden almost bolted out of his chair and all but ran out of the room, and was about to head towards his own room, when he heard his mother laughingly shout "Not there Brynden. Come back here." And so sighing in defeat Brynden ran back to his mother, and pantingly waited for her to explain why she had called him out of his lessons. He did not have to wait long. "The Lannisters and the Starks have been sighted within the gates of the city. Lord Brynden is escorting them to the Red Keep. I need you to go with Ser Roland and bathe and get changed into suitable attire to great our guests." Brynden heard his mother say.

He had to repress a sigh, and instead said "Why can't I just greet them as I am now mother? Why do I have to get changed? I'm the king am I not?"

His mother had a look of loving exasperation on her face when she replied to him. "Yes you are the king sweetling, but you must act like a king. And we can't have these lions and wolves seeing you as little more than a boy now can we? After all you are the dragon, are you not sweetling."

His mother began to tickle him until he laughed loudly and agreed to go and get changed. Much later he found himself sat on the Iron Throne, wearing a doublet of black and red, with the three headed dragon of House Targaryen emrboided onto it. He also wore a crown of black iron and gold, with seven sharp points on the top meant to represent swords and the seven kingdoms he ruled over. He shifted slightly on the throne to get into a more comfortable position as he waited for the Starks and the Lannisters to be announced. Standing next to him was his mother, at the foot of the steps leading up to the Iron Throne were the seven knights of the Kingsguard: Lord Commander Ser Roland Crakehall, Ser Garlan Tully, Ser Edrick Baratheon, Ser Oberyn Dayne (the sword of the morning), Ser Matthis Tyrell, Ser Richard Royce and Ser Devan Manderly. His great uncle Brynden stood in the shadows somewhere near the throne, Brynden knew, as did his uncle Maekar.

As the herald announced the members of both House Lannister and House Stark, and as they walked in front of the throne and bowed, Brynden felt his hands begin to shake slightly- it was something that the maester had attributed to nerves and the fact that he had been born a small babe- he felt his mother lean over and squeeze his hands briefly before she moved back to where she stood. Once the introductions had been made, Brynden spoke in as kingly a voice as a ten year old could manage and welcomed both houses to King's Landing and wished them a pleasant stay in the capital for the duration of the wedding festivities.

That evening was spent feasting their guests, Brynden spent most of the time sitting on the Iron Throne watching as his guests ate and drank and were merry, all the while feeling a certain sadness for on the morrow his sisters, the only two people other than his mother that he truly, truly loved, and truly loved him back, would be going to the furthest parts of the world to solidify the kingdoms from the threats of the Blackfyres. When the time came, Brynden's great uncle and his namesake got up and said a few words about how with the marriages of his sister Daenys to Ser Garon Lannister- heir to the Rock- and his sister Myriah to Edwyle Stark would produce not just an alliance, but the sealing of an ancient pact made long ago during the age of Aegon the Dragon, and would once and for all strengthen Westeros and bring peace to the realm.

There were not many younger people there for Brynden to play with, and as king he could not really move from his seat on the Iron Throne as he truly wished to do, and as he usually did so during their normal dinners. No standing on guard near the throne was Lord Commander Ser Roland Crakehall and Ser Edrick Baratheon, with the other knights of the Kingsguard standing close by in the shadows, watching and observing. Brynden was growing more and more bored as the evening wore on. As he looked around the throne room, he saw Ser Garon chatting amiably with his sister Daenys, saying things that made his sister blush and giggle. Lord Edwyle on the other hand seemed to be very quiet and solemn and did not seem to be saying much to Myriah. Some man with a red lion on his surcoat was chatting amiably with Brynden's mother, making her laugh and giggle in such a way that Brynden had only heard her laugh when she was with uncle Maekar.

Eventually the evening was brought to a close and Brynden walked to his bed escorted by Ser Garlan Tully and Ser Edrick, with his mother walking next to him. When he got into bed, his mother laid down next to him, and they sat in silence for a moment before she spoke. "You did very well today sweetling. I am so very proud of you. As your father would also be."

Brynden felt himself swell up with pride at that comment. "Mama," he said unsure of how to ask about what he had seen at the feast today.

"Yes sweetling?" his mother asked.

"Who was that man with the red lion on his surcoat, who was speaking to you today, and why was Uncle Maekar glowering at that man?" Brynden asked, afraid that he would cause his mother to get angry with him.

His mother merely chuckled next to him and replied. "Oh that, that was Davos Reyne Lord of Castamere, and your uncle Maekar was not glowering at him, he merely looks like that normally. Anyway my little dragon, go to sleep now, we have a big day tomorrow."

With that his mother kissed him on the cheek and got up off the bed and walked toward the door, before she did though, she turned round. "Goodnight little dragon, sleep tight. I love you."

Brynden replied back sleepily. "I love you too mama."

The next day Brynden found himself in the Great Sept of Baelor as he gave away his sisters to Ser Garon Lannister and Edwyle Stark respectively. Both Lannister and Stark families remained in King's Landing for another week, a week where politics was discussed and feasts where held, before they eventually made their way back to their respective homes. There was a tearful farewell on the day of both sisters departure from King's Landing. Brynden tried his hardest not to cry, he was king now and could not afford to cry. But nonetheless he felt himself begin to well up when he hugged his sisters goodbye.

"Be good," he heard both his sisters say to him at once. "Don't cause too much trouble for mother or uncle Maekar. And write to us as often as you can, and we shall write to you as often as we can. We love you little brother."

And with that Brynden watched his sisters ride away from King's Landing, from the Red Keep, from their mother, from him.

The next few days were spent in lessons and learning through observation as to how to be a good king, he sat on the iron throne and listened to the people present their issues and problems to him, and with the help of both his mother, his uncle and his great uncle made judgements and decisions that he hoped would benefit his people as best as possible. A moon after his sisters were married, his uncle Maekar rode off to war to fight the Blackfyres who had invaded the Stormlands with the Golden Company, the Second Sons and the Brave Companions.

Four moons later, a raven came from Casterly Rock announcing that his sister Daenys was with child. A moon after that came the news that the Blackfyres had been defeated once again. A moon after that he turned eleven and his sister Myriah was declared with child.


	5. Beneath The Gold, The Bittersteel

**Bittersteel**

The nightmares of Redgrass haunted him still. So many years from when the battle had actually occurred and victory had been so, so very close. He still heard the screams and the cries of the dying men, the men he had killed, as they had their lives torn from them. He remembered how confident he had been on the eve of the battle; they were winning the war, a sure sign from the gods that Daemon was meant to be king. At Redgrass they had come so very close, Lord Arryn's van had been smashed, Daemon had killed Lord Arryn and Lord Hayford. Aegor himself had come very close to breaking Maekar's right, but then that thrice damned Bloodraven had resorted to trickery and sorcery , and had killed Daemon and Aegon and Aemon, and the men who had fought so resolutely for Daemon began to break.

Aegor had led a fierce counter attack, cutting through the cowardly Raven's Teeth, had fought a fierce duel with Bloodraven himself, had severly wounded the man. But victory was not to be, Baelor Breakspear had emerged from the Dornish marches with an army of Dornish spears and Stormlords who were pumped up for battle, and that combined with Maekar's hammer had crushed the remaining men who had fought so loyally for Daemon and then Aegor. The army broke, men were killed in their thousands, and when defeat looked imminent, Aegor did the only thing he could think of that would preserve the chance of a Blackfyre victory in the future, he seized Blackfyre and rode with great haste with some of the other leading rebels and retreated back to where Daemon's wife and other sons were, and took them across the narrow sea with him to his contacts in Tyrosh.

That had been many years ago now, and yet the bitter taste of defeat was still present in his every movement, his every waking hour. All he could see was Daemon's lifeless body, arrows protruding from his neck, throat and face. Aegon and Aemon- his two favourite nephews- lying there unseeingly in the dust and hard plains of Redgrass Field. Such thoughts merely served to anger him further, his plots for retribution to Bloodraven, to Daeron Falseborn, only grew more and more with each passing day. Then his spies in Westeros reported that Baelor Breakspear had died, leaving his sons as heirs to the throne, Aegor began plotting anew with some remaining Black Dragon loyalists, then came the news that Daeron Falseborn and his grandchildren Valarr and Matarys had died in the sickness that had engulfed Westeros. Thus leaving Aerys as King and a babe as his heir. Aegor amped up his plotting and began making proper preparations for a new invasion of Westeros.

Daemon's namesake, the boy who would call himself Daemon the second, was nothing like his father. Where Daemon had excelled at weaponry and had been charismatic, the second Daemon was weak and brooding, preferring his songs to swords. Aegor had despaired at ever getting the lords of Westeros to rise for this Daemon, but he had to try, he had a promise to keep after all. And so he sent Daemon with Gormon Peake to try and drum up support for the Blackfyre cause. The boy failed, he failed to impress the martial lords who attended the tourney of whitewalls, he had himself captured by Bloodraven, years of planning undone in mere hours, simply because the boy could not fight or lift a sword to save himself. Aegor had cursed violently when he had heard of the boy's arrest, the fact that Bloodraven had not had the boy executed was frustrating enough. He could not crown Haegon, not with Daemon still alive, and rotting in the black cells of the Red Keep.

The boy had died in the black cells a few months before Aerys had, of a wasting sickness apparently. Aegor had laughed with delight upon hearing the news of the boy's death, though his mother had wept with sadness. Haegon had been a warrior since he could hold a mace, he fought well, had proven himself a fierce warrior in battle with the Golden Company, and had proven himself a good leader of men. And so their rebellion was plotted once more, the boy king on the Iron Throne was crowned and two months later, Aegor mobilised the Golden Company and brought with it the Second Sons and the Brave Companions.

And so after months of preparation here they were landing on the shores of Cape Wrath with their men and elephants ready for a battle. Aegor knew that the Iron Throne would not be caught out by their invasion, he knew that Bloodraven had spies in Tyrosh, likely had spies within the Golden Company, but it did not matter they had more numbers now than they had had in the past, the realm itself was tired and weakening after the Ironborn raids, a boy sat the iron throne, yes now was the right time to fight and invade.

And so they fought, 10,000 men of the Golden Company plus some 500 men from the Second Sons and whatever houses in Westeros were still loyal to the Black Dragon, fought against the Targaryen pretenders. Aegor drew his sword and hacked and slashed like a man possessed, cutting down all who got in his way. He slashed and ducked, and dodged and weaved, and cut down more and more men. Watching with grim satisfaction as his sword became more and more red, coated with the blood of the enemy.

He continued slashing and hacking his way through the Targaryen army, making sure to keep a close eye on Haegon, he was glad to see Haegon keeping his own, swinging his mace in a manner that was strangely similar to Maekar. Aegor swung his sword across the face of a man with the silver seahorse of House Velayron, he watched as the man's face was cleaved in two and blood began to spurt out of his face. Aegor rode on, swinging and hacking as he went, drenching the ground in more and more blood.

As he rode, Aegor heard the sounds of more and more men dying and screaming out in agony. Blood coated the ground, and the cries of the dying echoed throughout the sky and the clouds seemed to darken as the seven drank greedily from the feast that was being made for them. He tried desperately to put the memories of Redgrass from his mind, but was not successful and so missed a blow to his horse that killed the old steed and sent him falling to the ground- thankfully away from the falling horse- Aegor looked up and found himself staring at his nephew Prince Maekar. Maekar had not changed too much in the intervening years between Redgrass and now, he still seemed perpetually angry and had the same pox marked scars on his face, though there was a much more hardened look in his eyes.

Aegor struggled up to his feet and raised his sword, just as Maekar dismounted from his own horse and moved toward Aegor, with his mace drawn. They swung at the same time, the clanging of mace on sword rang loudly in Aegor's ears, and for now the surrounding fights were blocked from his mind, now there was only him and Maekar, and survival was the only target on both men's minds. They kept themselves locked in a fierce game of strength and will, with neither man being willing to pull their weapons away, sparks began to fly the longer they kept their weapons pressed together, and both men were beginning to physically strain under the effort.

Eventually both men broke apart, both tired from the stain of the previous fight- they were no longer the young men they had been during Redgrass after all- then Maekar swung his mace at Aegor's head, Aegor just about managed to bring his sword up in time to block the blow, though the impact of the mace hitting his sword caused his shoulder to jar, making him wince in pain. Maekar kept hammering his mace at Aegor, causing Aegor's sword to begin to dent inwards, and for Aegor to feel his strength beginning to wane.

Though Maekar could not keep up the assault for long, and when he pulled away to catch his breath, Aegor pounced. Attacking his nephew with a series of fast and constant slashes and hacks, some of which Maekar managed to block with his mace, some of which he didn't. Those that he did not manage to block managed to cut and dent his armour, and at one point even managed to cause blood to trickle out from a few of the dents.

Aegor pulled back once he was tired from the assault, and Maekar then resumed his own assault. Swinging his mace rapidly, at Aegor's face, his body, his arms, his hands any part that Maekar could get his mace to, it seemed to Aegor that he would try and hit. Aegor felt himself beginning to tire out, felt the blood begin to flow out from his armour, from cuts and dents to his armour in a thousand different places. He knew he was going to die, but he was determined to die with a sword in his hand, and as a warrior.

He blocked Maekar's next mace swing, and with a great effort managed to push his nephew away from him. He then began swinging and hacking at Maekar, with no particular care as to where his sword strokes landed, he kept swinging and hacking, and slashing until he no longer had the strength to. When he moved back a few paces, he was happy to see several fresh bruises on Maekar's body, he was happy to see the blood beginning to fall out in droves from his nephew.

Maekar swung his mace once more, and this time Aegor could not get his sword in the way to block the blow. Maekar ended up hitting him in the stomach, winding him and causing him to fall to the ground, blood began pouring out of his mouth. He tried to raise his sword, but Maekar knocked it down and out of his hands, he heard the sword clang to the dirt below, the clanging of steel on ground lost amongst the chaos of battle. Aegor then saw his nephew raise his sword high into the air, and closed his eyes to say a quick prayer to the seven before he felt the mace connect with his skull.

Aegor 'Bittersteel' Rivers, at the age of nine and forty was killed in the Battle of Cape Wrath, during the third Blackfyre Rebellion, by his nephew Prince Maekar Targaryen. Dealt a mace blow to the skull, his death was instant. The third Blackfyre rebellion ended with Haegon Blackfyre being slain by Prince Aegon Targaryen in single combat. The realm had peace once more, at least for the time being...


	6. The Forgotten Queen

**Aelinor**

Winter had come to Westeros; the Starks were always right in the end. One Blackfyre rebellion had been put down, thus securing the Targaryen and her son's hold of the Iron Throne for the time being. How long the peace would last, Aelinor did not know. Her son was but a child, though he was quickly growing into a fine young man that was not what worried her though. Maekar and her son's namesake were both ageing rapidly, they had just celebrated Maekar's fiftieth nameday, and her brother was showing the signs of old age just as clearly as their father had been when he too had reached that age and yet there was still so much to do.

Her son needed guidance in the ways of ruling, he was but a boy still though he had seen three and ten name days, he was as old as Daemon had been when he had married the Strickland girl, Aelinor knew that, yet she could not help but want to shield him from the harsher realities of the world, that would one day demand his attention as King of all the Seven Kingdoms. And for that to happen she needed Maekar to be around, her brother seemed to be the only other person that could completely control Brynden, her son was active and boisterous like all thirteen year old boys were wont to be, but as he was also King of Westeros, more people were likely to let his lapses go undisciplined, which would only lead to bad things to happen further on down the line. Aelinor of course knew she could be strict if she needed to be, but of course she was not always around to provide the discipline her son needed, given that she was often quite busy with the small council, and Maekar himself was busy as master of laws on her son's small council. This had consequently meant that it had fallen to Egg to provide some sort of guidance for her son.

Just as her thoughts began to drift away from her son and her concerns for him, Maekar walked in, looking tired and bedraggled. He huffed as he sat down and poured himself a glass of wine. "Honestly, you would think that with winter here those god forsaken Lannisters would be happy with what we have given them."

Aelinor arched an eyebrow at her brother, and waited for him to reply. "They want more leeway to go trading across the narrow sea. Lannister says that it will allow him to source out where that blasted Blackfyre and his brothers are. Personally I do not believe it for one second." Maekar said tiredly.

"And why is that Maekar?" Aelinor asked, though she suspected she already knew the answer.

"Because Lannister is still angry from the time when father had to keep him and his godforsaken brother hostage to ensure that their father didn't rebel with Blackfyre. He wants us to let him go and sail across the narrow sea so that he can give men to the Blackfyres and the Golden Company. I won't allow it." Maekar said.

Though she had suspected that there would still be some sort of lingering resentment amongst the Lannisters for the actions- necessary as they had been- that her and Maekar's father had taken during the Blackfyre rebellion, she did not expect Tybolt Lannister to still seriously wish to side with the Blackfyres, whichever one was sent to haunt Westeros once more. And so she voiced these thoughts. "Is Lord Tybolt not happy with his heir's marriage to Daenys? I would have thought the lion would have been happy with the news that his son and good daughter have had two children since their marriage begun."

Maekar sighed, "He is happy alright. But of course you know these Lannisters; they always want more and more. And Bloodraven's spies have reported that this new Blackfyre, what was his name, Maegon? Has offered his son's hand in marriage to whoever gives him the most support. The Lannisters want their daughter as a queen, we did not give them Brynden, we gave them a Princess and a tie to the royal family true, but not the claim they want. Lannister wants to be grandfather to a king, and we did not give him that. Maegon will."

"And what will the small council do about this?" Aelinor asked, fear beginning to pile up inside of her, they had only just crushed one Blackfyre rebellion; would another one come up so soon?

Maekar sighed once more. "Nothing, the rest of the small council do not have these suspicions. Only I and Bloodraven do. It will be a long time before the Blackfyres can mobilise their troops again to plan another invasion, and with Bittersteel and Haegon dead, I do severly doubt whether or not they will actually try again."

Nodding, Aelinor decided to move the conversation onto another topic. "How are Egg and Rhae doing then brother, is their child well?"

She saw Maekar's eyes light up as they always did at the mention of his grandchildren. "Egg and Rhae are doing well, they left for Summerhall this morning, Duncan has become a terror for them, the boy keeps running around like a madman, he reminds me so much of Baelor," her brother trailed away then, getting the faraway look he often go when he spoke of their eldest brother, but he soon came back. "Jaehaerys is doing well, he is much better now than when he was last time they were in King's Landing."

She noticed, as she often did that Maekar had deigned not speak of Daeron's daughter, nor of the children that Aerion had sired in his time in exile. The children who could very well be the cause of yet another civil war should they ever turn their eyes toward Westeros.

Maekar spoke once again. "There will be a tournament to celebrate your boy's fourteenth nameday in a few moons time. All the lords of the realm have been invited as have, all the knights and their other people. It will be in King's Landing and your boy wishes to compete in it."

Aelinor said nothing for a moment, thinking over what her brother had said, she knew that Brynden was getting to the age where he would wish to compete and show off his martial prowess, though he would hopefully never have to fight in an actual war. But still there was something about Tourneys that had never quite sat so well with her after the Tourney at Ashford. "Do you think he is ready to compete? She asked her brother.

Maekar took a long moment to reply and when he did, he gave her the answer she knew he would though she still dreaded it all the same. "He will never be ready unless he tries Aelinor. Practice makes perfect, and your son is king, he will need to prove himself, especially with those accursed Blackfyres still across the narrow sea."

Aelinor nodded then, and they sat in silence for a moment more, before Maekar got up to leave, before he did, Aelinor grabbed his hand, and squeezed it. "Thank you Maekar, thank you for everything." She said. Maekar said nothing he merely nodded though he did squeeze her hand back.

The next few months were spent discussing the state of the kingdoms, trying to repair Westeros after yet another failed Blackfyre invasion. Dealing with the increasing concerns of Maekar and Bloodraven that Tybolt Lannister may betray them at any moment, as well as helping to prepare for Daella's second wedding. Her niece had been married to Rodrick Baratheon, but the man had died during the third Blackfyre rebellion, leaving her niece a widow with no children, and so she had decided to marry Lord Arel Dayne, Lord of Starfall and nephew to Ser Oberyn Dayne of the Kingsguard, theirs was a marriage for love as well as for convenience and it seemed that Lord Arel made Daella quite happy, and so there could be no complaints there.

Eventually the day of the tournament to celebrate her son's fourteenth name day arrived and with it came the splendour of King's Landing in full, along with the tourney came the pretty much all the nobles from Westeros, with the exception of Myriah and her Stark husband, given that Myriah was with child again and their daughter was too young to travel without her mother. There was to be a jousting competition, as well as a melee and archery competition, as well as a competition amongst the squires (which she had learnt from Maekar, Brynden would be taking part in.)

The first competition to be held was the archery competition, and after several hours of watching both men and women alike fire arrows at targets, both moving and stationery a winner was declared in Ser Edmyn Tully of Riverrun, brother to Ser Garlan. The next day the melee was held, and the competition seemed to go on for days not hours, she saw how enraptured Brynden was with the whole spectacle, and had to remind herself several times that her son was only fourteen he was not yet a man grown, and had yet to experience the horrors of life, hopefully he never would have to.

Then came the melee of squires, and her son, the King of the Seven Kingdoms walked out to a deafening cheer from the gathered crowd, dressed in black and red armour, the three headed dragon of their house embedded proudly on his chest plate, wearing a dragon shaped helm, with his sword in hand. After the death of Ser Roland Crakehall during the last rebellion, Ser Edrick had been named Lord Commander, and it was he who announced the beginning of the melee. Aelinor watched with baited breath as her son and the combatants he would face strode forward, each with their own weapons in hand.

She nearly cried out, when she saw a boy with the Two Towers of House Frey swing his sword straight for her son's head, but Brynden was quicker than he appeared and raised his sword up to block the other boy's swing. The two boys duelled for what seemed a long time to Aelinor, as she watched her son swing and hack at the other boy, beating him back, and beating him with his sword, though the Frey was twice as big as her own son, still her Brynden held his own, enough that when he had eventually knocked the Frey squire to the ground enough times, Ser Edrick eventually declared the Frey out of the melee. The next foe her son faced, was from House Reyne. A tall lad with a big broad build, the lad swung his hammer fiercely at her son, and she gasped when she saw that he had hit Brynden, knocking him to the ground however, briefly. Her son got back up on his feet, and the two engaged in yet another duel. Swinging and missing, dodging and ducking, Aelinor's heart was in her mouth throughout the whole event, and she let out a breath she hadn't even realised she had been holding, when she saw Brynden knock the Reyne boy down to the ground and heard Ser Edrick declare the boy out of the melee. The other competitors had either been knocked out or too badly injured to fight on, all except for one boy, who bore the sun and spear of House Martell. This lad was most likely Aelinor's Aunt Daenaerys' grandson, if she remembered correctly, he was a few years older than Brynden and it showed.

He beat Brynden back many a time, he dented her son's armour many a time, he knocked her son to the ground many a time, and still Brynden kept getting up and fighting even though it looked like he was severly overmatched. The worry must have been clear on her face for Maekar leaned over and whispered to her "He is doing well Aelinor, do not fear yet."

It seemed her brother's words had some sort of prophetic quality to them for, as soon as he leaned back into his own seat, Brynden began a fierce counter attack of his Dornish cousin, slashing and stabbing and jabbing, he drove his Dornish cousin onto the back foot and eventually made the boy surrender. Thus making Brynden the winner of the competition. The crowd cheered loudly, as their king was named the winner, and when Brynden took of his helmet, and Aelinor saw his sweat covered head look toward her, she felt such pride for her little boy, it was almost too much for her.

Brynden helped his cousin up and walked toward the royal box where she was sitting with Maekar and Bloodraven. He nodded toward them and then took something from one of the servants who stood at the front of the stand, and in a deep voice said. "Mother, if you could come down to the front of the stand please." Curious as to what her son was going to say to her she did so. Brynden then leaned forward and placed a crown of roses on top of her head, and said in a loud voice for all to hear, "I would name my mother Queen Regent Aelinor as the Queen of Love and Beauty."

The cheers of the crowd still echoed in her head the next day as she sat next to her son and watched as all those who competed in the joust including three knights of the Kingsguard fell to Arel Dayne, and then when Arel crowned Daella as Queen of love and beauty, she smiled at her niece and the obvious love she felt for Lord Dayne.

Once the tournament ended, life went on as normal in King's Landing, there was still work to be done, Westeros needed to be made whole again, after the effects of three Blackfyre Rebellions, the Great Spring Sickness and the drought that had followed it. Winter had given way to spring now, a short winter it had been, but still there was work to be done, including discussions of whom her son should marry. As Brynden was now approaching manhood the discussions became ever more important and her son began to attend council meetings more regularly.

It was during one such council meeting that the question of marrying Brynden to one of Lord Arryn's daughters came up. It was Bloodraven who brought it up first. "Your Grace, my lords," he said. "As we are currently tied to two of the Great Houses, one in the west, one in the north, would it not be prudent to also tie ourselves to the East as well?"

There were mutterings of consent from the various nobles, Brynden remained silent waiting for his namesake to go on. "The Arryns have always been steadfastly loyal to the Iron Throne, and is it not time that they be rewarded for their loyalty with a marriage?"

Again there were more mutterings of consent, Aelinor remained silent, but Brynden did not. "And when would you propose I marry this daughter of Lord Arryn's, Lord Brynden?"

Aelinor watched as Bloodraven turned his eye onto her son, and felt herself shudder internally, there was something about Bloodraven that unnerved her, even after all these years, and there was a sense of foreboding when she heard him reply. "Why, when you turn sixteen Your Grace. It would not do, to wed a daughter of Lord Jonor Arryn to a minor now would it?"


	7. Kill The Boy And Let The Man Be Born

**Brynden**

It had been two years since the Tourney for his fourteenth nameday, two years in which winter had finally arrived and kept Westeros in its deep embrace, two years in which Brynden had grown from being a gangly boy, to a strong and muscular man. He was to be meeting with his betrothed- one Rowena Arryn- today. It would be the first time the two of them were to meet and Brynden- he who was usually quite confident and sure of himself- found that he was very, very nervous. He knew how important it would be that he made a good impression on his betrothed, when he had been younger he had often wondered why his mother had never seemed to be truly happy with his father, but as he had gotten older he had come to better understand. His father had been a very clever and bookish man, but had not truly paid attention to his mother, and as a result his mother had become quite bitter about it. Brynden knew for a fact that he did not wish to be like his father, he wanted to be able to discuss the most intimate of things with his betrothed, after all she would be his wife for the remainder of their days, and he now knew the importance of having someone to confide in.

"You're doing it again." Brynden heard his mother chide.

He turned round and looked at her, confusion etched on his face. "Whenever you get nervous, you keep playing with your hands. Don't worry sweetling you'll be fine." His mother said reassuringly.

Normally he would make a face at his mother, for calling him sweetling, but just now he could with all the reassurance and endearments he could get. He could never understand why, but whenever he had to talk to a girl who was not family, he always became so very, very nervous. Raising his head up, he spoke. "Very well then, I shall try and refrain from doing that. Thank you lady mother."

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his mother trying to repress a smile. He could also tell that Ser Garlan Tully was also trying to repress a smile, ignoring them he called out in his most kingly voice. "Ser Devan bring in Lady Rowena and her family please." He saw Ser Devan Manderly bow his head and then move to open the doors, as the doors opened and the Arryns walked into the throne room, Brynden felt his breath catch as he looked at his betrothed. She was stunning, as few years younger than him perhaps, but truly stunning, she was tall with long curly brown hair, piercing green eyes and a smile that seemed to belie a hundred promises. He had never seen someone so beautiful.

As the Arryns got to the steps of the throne, they stopped and bowed and curtseyed, but Brynden only had eyes for his betrothed. Once all the customary greetings had been done, Brynden gave the rest of the Arryns leave to speak with his mother, his hand or his uncle, and stepped down from the throne, and asked his betrothed to walk with him. Fitting her arm to his hand, they walked out of the throne room, Ser Edrick and Ser Garlan, two white shadows behind them, trailing at a respectful distance.

As they walked through the Red Keep, both of them were silent for a time, as Brynden tried to figure exactly what he was supposed to say. He had seen his cousin Egg talk with girls with little to no problem, but he himself had never truly learnt how to start a proper and decent conversation with a girl, without making himself feel like they were just trying to flatter him. Luckily for him, his betrothed seemed to have no such qualms for she was the one who broke the silence. "The Red Keep truly is lovely Your Grace."

Brynden replied. "Truly? And please its Brynden, my lady."

They stopped beside one of the windows looked out onto the city, his city, and he heard his betrothed speak once more. "Yes truly Your Grace, the Red Keep though it may not be as big as some of the castles truly is a beautiful castle; it has some features that truly resonate with me, as does King's Landing. And if I am to call you by your name, then I insist that you do the same for me... Brynden."

Brynden could not help the smile that broke out across his face then, he knew then that the both of them would get along just fine. "And what is it about King's Landing that makes it so appealing to you my lady?"

"Well, the hustle and the bustle of the streets, the liveliness of the whole place just seems so invigorating to me. Much more so than the Eyrie or the Vale." Rowena replied.

After that they moved from the window ledge, and walked some more through the Red Keep, talking and joking about various things. Brynden told her some more about King's Landing and the court, whilst Rowena filled him in on what her life had been like at the Vale. Eventually they parted ways, for both of them had their own things to attend to before the feast that night.

The feast that night seemed to go well. The Arryns seemed to be having a good time, and Brynden became more and more enraptured with his betrothed, hanging of her every word, and laughing at her jokes. If he thought himself enraptured, he surely thought that she too must have become more enraptured with him too, though he would not voice these thoughts aloud for fear of sounding pretentious.

The Arryns stayed in King's Landing for just over a month, in which time Brynden got to learn slightly more about the Warden of the East and his family. Jasper Arryn, was a proud man, who liked the sound of his own voice, though when he spoke, Brynden tended to listen, for what the man said seemed to make much sense to the king's young ears. He listened most intently to the man's stories of his uncle Baelor, how mighty a warrior his uncle had been, how skilled a diplomat the man had also been. Brynden had once tried to ask his mother and his uncle Maekar, about his uncle Baelor, but both of them had become very sad, and he had never asked since. Lord Jasper's wife was a kind and courteous lady, though she seemed to be quite quiet never saying much unless Brynden's mother spoke with her. Rowena's younger siblings were too young to truly be of much interest to Brynden; Jon Arryn the heir to the Vale was but a young baby.

The time he spent with Rowena though, was time he truly cherished. In the month since he had met her, he had quickly realised that his betrothed was a smart, and funny lady, who made him more comfortable with himself and around her. For though Brynden was normally quite confident in himself, there were times where it all became too much, the thought of being king, truly wore on him. But when he was with Rowena, such concerns did not seem to matter; they seemed minimal in comparison to making Rowena laugh and smile. The first time they kissed was at the feast held for his sixteenth nameday, the day that signalled that he was officially a man and could be properly coronated. They had gone for a walk out in the grounds of the Red Keep, Ser Edrick and Ser Oberyn walking behind them, when Brynden had had a sudden urge to kiss her, pulling her away from the main path, he led her to a grove where the apples grew, where he had walked with his mother when he was but a babe, and pushing her against one of the walls the leant over her and whispered in her ear. "I've been dying to kiss you since I saw you enter the hall this evening, Rowena."

"As have I... Brynden." He heard her pant back, as ever the sound of her saying his name sent thrills shooting through him.

Leaning in closer so that both their foreheads were touching, he said. "I don't think I can last much longer, without kissing you."

"So do it then."

And do it he did, he leant in and kissed her full on the mouth, and she kissed him back. They kissed for what seemed like an age, their tongues fighting each other in their mouths, and when they pulled apart they were both gasping for air, though they kissed again and again, each time better than the last until, they heard footsteps approaching, and they quickly pulled apart, but before they did Brynden heard Rowena whisper "Happy nameday Your Grace."

The next day was his coronation. He was dressed in a doublet of red and black, with a three red headed dragon clasping his cloak. As he kneeled in front of the High Septon, on the steps of the Great Sept of Baelor, and swore his oaths, to protect the people of all faiths and creed, from wrongdoing and injustice. To defend the seven, the old gods, the drowned god from those who would wrong them. To ensure that justice was served to the best of his ability and to rule wisely for as long as he could, he felt a sense of duty envelop him. As the High Septon put the crown on his head, and bid him rise, Brynden knew that there was no turning back now, he was no longer a boy, it was time to kill the boy and let the man be born.

* * *

Small council meetings, Brynden had quickly learnt were some of the most boring things known to mankind. They were a place for the lords of his small council to puff out their chests and speak and speak and speak, as if they feared that if they did not continuously speak about monotonus things like finance- though he knew it was important- then they would lost the ability to speak all together.

One of the worst people on his small council Brynden thought was the Master of Coin, Tybolt Lannister. The man had served on his father's small council as master of coin as well, and his son and heir was married to Brynden's sister Daenys, and yet the man never seemed to shut up, nor did he seem to think that he had got his just desert in life. It was something that Brynden could not fathom. He knew the Lannisters were a rich and powerful family, second only to Brynden's own family, and yet the man never seemed to be content with his lot, it was almost as if he thought life had cheated him of some elusive goal.

His uncle Maekar, seemed to share Brynden's view on the man, if the number of times that Brynden had seen his uncle grit his teeth to hold back some scathing comment was anything to go by. Though of course his uncle said nothing to reprimand or keep Lord Tybolt in line, for though Brynden was loath to admit it, they did need the Lannisters and their gold, if they were to have any hope of quashing the Blackfyres before they tried to invade again.

Brynden's namesake, otherwise known as Bloodraven continued to serve as hand, though as he was getting older, the man seemed to be less of a presence than he had supposedly been during Brynden's father and grandfather's reigns. He had even asked Brynden if he could resign and head north for the Night's Watch, something that Brynden had been reluctant to allow, the man may be getting old, but his services were still needed in the south, for now.

The other members of the small council, excluding Lord Commander Ser Edrick, were all, as far as Brynden was concerned a bunch of old women. Afraid to make changes to the status quo, Brynden had had to argue fiercely for changes to be brought to the systems of ship building and raising men, he knew that the Blackfyres were building war galleys, and that the Golden Company had war elephants. He had argued fiercely for the Royal Fleet to be expanded, they needed bigger and quicker ships which could fire off powder that could deal with enemy ships without having to have men die needlessly mounting the other ship. The Master of Ships, Rodrik Greyjoy- Dagon's son- had scoffed at the notion, until Brynden had told him that unless he wished to have his head grace a spike on the Red Keep he would look into the matter.

And now they had received word from one of Bloodraven's sources across the narrow sea, that the Blackfyres were planning another assault, and discussion was fierce over what their next move should be. As usual Lord Tybolt seemed to wish to wait. " The Blackfyres have tried three times to take the Iron Throne from its rightful owners, and three times they have failed. What is there to say this attempt will be any different?

"The fact that they are arming more and more men, this Maegon Blackfyre will be bringing with him not just the Golden Company, but the Second Sons, the Brave Companions and even the armies of Pentos with him." Brynden heard his namesake reply.

He heard Tybolt Lannister snort in derision. "And did Bittersteel not bring the second sons with him the last time the Blackfyres tried to invade? And did Prince Maekar not crush that rebellion alongside Prince Aegon and Ser Duncan? What is there to say this invasion will be any more successful?"

"The fact that half of Dorne will also be rallying behind this Maegon Blackfyre. The Yronwoods have managed to get some powerful houses to agree to fight behind the black dragon. Should they invade, we shall have no support from Dorne." Bloodraven answered.

Brynden was glad to see the smug smile rubbed off of Tybolt Lannister's face even if he himself felt nerves begin to flutter in his stomach at the mention of the rebellion in Dorne. "What would you suggest we do, the Lord Brynden?" Brynden asked.

His great uncle turned his eye toward him, and gave him a piercing look. "With your permission Your Grace, I would have my spies in the Golden Company whisper in the pretender's ear that should he land in the Dornish Marches, we will be caught unawares, and that he will have time to link up with his Dornish allies."

Brynden remained silent for a moment, debating the possibilities, before saying. "Very well then, but I want there to be full proof backups just in case, Mors cannot hold off the rebels. There will need to be men ready to march as soon as we hear that the fools have landed. Grand Maester Derryck, I want you to send ravens to all corners of the kingdoms. Since Lord Tybolt and Lord Rodrick are already here, you will know that as soon as the ravens come, banners will be called. I want your men and the men of every other Lord Paramount ready to march the minute the ravens arrive in your castles. I want these Blackfyres done for, and I want them done for good."

* * *

The preparations for the inevitable Blackfyre invasion, soon took a back seat, as the plans were made for Brynden's wedding to Rowena Arryn. Since Rowena had left King's Landing, the two of them had kept in touch via raven, and Brynden could firmly say, that he felt as if he had known his betrothed his whole life. What was good was that his mother seemed to be quite taken with her as well, and that was important to him, for his mother was the only person Brynden had ever truly loved and cared about along with his sisters, and her acceptance of his bride to be was crucial.

He had noticed that both his mother and his uncle Maekar, seemed to be much happier as of late than they had been in years past, and he was curious to find out what had caused that. Though if they way they looked at each other was any indication, then he should have no trouble truly finding out what was going on between them. Not that he was truly bothered, so long as his mother was happy, and his uncle Maekar did nothing to make her unhappy, then Brynden would be fine, should, something go wrong though...

Eventually the day of his wedding dawned bright and early, Brynden soon found himself walking toward the Great Sept of Baelor, the crows that had been gathering for days cheering loudly as he passed them by. He was followed closely by his mother, his uncle Maekar, Bloodraven, his cousins and his sisters and their husbands and children. He entered the Sept and felt his heart rate begin to speed up, this was yet another step of becoming a man, yet another step to finally wedding his betrothed, he had waited for so long.

When Rowena entered the Sept on her father's arm, Brynden felt his breath catch, just as it had done all those months ago when he had seen her for the first time. She looked stunning in a dress of blue and grey, her hair worn loose around her shoulders, he could see the curls that he so loved clearly, and he felt his heart begin to pound quicker. He could not stop looking at her, even as they said their vows to each other, and it was a relief when the High Septon announced that he could kiss her. He kissed her long and deep, and felt happy and content.

At the wedding feast they talked and laughed and danced, and Brynden could not take his eyes of off her. They danced and danced, and when the men in the hall called for the bedding, Brynden gave his wife's hand a quick squeeze, before they began the journey that would confirm them officially as man and wife.

Brynden did not see the servant who came into the hall to speak with Bloodraven and Maekar, if he had, he would have seen the letter that was shown to both men, with the Three Headed Dragon on it. War was approaching, and this time Brynden would be needed to fight for his throne.


End file.
